Some stories feel like your own. You flip through the pages, you see yourself. Making the same mistakes, holding onto the same hope. The same dream, the same wish, the same trauma, the same fear. And the way you made through it all, and the way she has made through it all. You never met, you never knew. May be she is real, may be she is not. But she is you.
Oh, Esperanza, I see myself in you.
The House on The Mango Street: Sandra Cisneros
by Terribly_Talkative